


Rogue

by DarkandTwisted



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate universe - Mafia, But eventual smut, Dark Sansa, F/M, Joffrey's a psychopath, Mafia AU, Sandor is half italian!, Sansa is badass here, Slooooow burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, You Have Been Warned, and eventual romance, but definitely more smut, but u already know that, he's 10x more attractive, ok i'll stop, renly isn't gay here, sansan, sorry renly/loras shippers, will be adding more tags, wink wink, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:09:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10572897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkandTwisted/pseuds/DarkandTwisted
Summary: MAFIA AUSansa Stark, a sweet young lady who wholeheartedly believed in fairytales and prince charmings, died the moment Joffrey Lannister, the underboss of the Lannister Family, took her away and saw his true colors.Now, she is desperate to escape and free herself from the controlling and powerful lions living within her cage. 3 years of isolation from the real world, she later finds out a gruesome revelation about her fiancé that finally gives her the strength and courage to leave the lions' den.She hates the mafia, their ridiculous organization and the men involved in it so when she bumps into a man, a mafia boss to be specific, she feels that maybe the gods were making fun of her and when she thought it couldn't be any worse, he holds her captive and brings her to his den.Before Sansa knew it, she's thrown into a world where men fight for power, for control and for money. A world where guns and bloodshed is involved and a world where the new Sansa might come to love even if an inscrutable and undeniably attractive rogue named Sandor Clegane is involved too.First ever fanfic! This might be a bit dark but please go on and give this a shot :)





	1. Chapter 1

**I. Eating Me Alive**

* * *

 

            “MY sweet, sweet Sansa." The voice made her shut her eyes tight. She refused to look at the _monster_ behind her. She could already feel him scowling at her, hearing him crack his knuckles in preparation for the punishment he had set out for her and it made Sansa shudder with horror.

  
She squirmed in her chair at the feel of his dirty, cold hands grazing the sides of her arms. She hated that voice, hated the feel of his touch and everything else about him. This wasn't the first time he's done this but that never stopped her from being scared.

  
Sansa could feel his light, feathery touches ghosting against her jaw before he violently cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. She kept her eyes tightly shut, defying him.

  
She knew what she was doing and she knew she might end up dead, but she'd rather have that than suffer any more in the hands of this sick sadist.

  
She desperately wanted to escape the clutches of this vile man but she was tied down on a chair in the middle of a dark, empty room with no windows, the light source being just a single bulb dangling from the ceiling above her, lighting up an area where she was situated but not the entire space.

  
It wasn't long before she felt a sharp sting of pain across her face as he backhanded her. Blood oozed out of her lips, realizing he had cut it with the ring on his hand.

  
She could feel the tears welling up behind her eyes, threatening to fall but she held them. She didn't want to see him take pleasure in seeing her break knowing that was what he exactly craves—Sansa being vulnerable and weak. She was just a plaything for him, for his amusement, for him to satisfy his twisted cravings.

  
Eyes still closed, she felt his wormy fingers grip her chin again but this time with more force.

  
"Open your _fucking_ eyes," He said through gritted teeth, digging his nails into her pale skin. She bit the inside of her cheek hard and slowly opened her eyes.

  
The darkness of the room swallowed him and all she can see was his cold blue eyes. She saw him step a foot forward, revealing his face that she once had trusted and loved. He was dressed in his usual grey suit that made him different from the family and showed the authority he had, he was the underboss after all. His mop of golden hair and boyish features gave her the illusion that living with him would be full of love and happiness but of course, she was absolutely wrong. She hated her naivety and ignorance even if she was just a child back then. She wished she was more like Arya, a fearless young lady whose wit was as sharp as her lucky dagger. She was the exact opposite, a naïve little girl who adored nothing but happy endings and fairytales.

  
Through the blurry vision of her tear-filled eyes she saw his smile, the corners of his wormy lips pulling up in to a sinister smile that had given her endless nightmares and haunted her everyday.

  
He looked her straight in the eyes. His dull and lifeless blue eyes showing a gleam of triumph in it as her lips tremble.

  
"You can't run away from me. I own you now and you're mine, mine _alone_." He began to caress her bruised cheeks before leaning down to capture her mouth in a rough kiss.

  
Sansa stilled and felt the bile coming out of her stomach. Her own tears betrayed her and came trickling down when she felt him nip and tug hard on her lips where he cut her.

  
She whimpered, seeing him smirk with satisfaction at her tear-stained cheeks and purplish bruises.

  
"Do you understand, Sansa?" He said softly this time and kneeled down, grasping her hands to start rubbing small circles on her palm, looking up at her expectantly. The gesture was supposed to be comforting but it was anything but. She felt uneasy at the change of his behavior.

  
She couldn't bring herself to answer him after what he's done so when he heard no response from her, he abruptly stood up and grabbed a handful of her red hair. He tugged down on it with so much force that a cry of pain escaped from her lips. She felt the stinging sensation on her scalp as he continued his assault.

  
" _Do you understand, Sansa?_ " He spit out and pulled down his hair further for her neck to contort and made her look up at his wild eyes.

  
"Yes . . .“She muttered as her lips continued to tremble. She saw him scowl and raise his hand and brought it across her face for another hard slap yet again. She grimaced, pain contorting her face.

  
Realizing her mistake, she willed herself to say, "Yes, Joffrey, my king." Silent tears continued to streak her cheeks. Her bruises ached all over her body, the thick rope digging painfully into her skin while she sobbed uncontrollably. She didn't understand him anymore. It was as though he was turning into a _madman_ , but then, maybe he already was.

  
Satisfied with the pain he had inflicted on her, he let go of her disheveled tresses and turned around, facing nothing but the darkness of the room.

  
Joffrey fell silent at first, standing still with his back to her before he spoke,  
“You know why you're here, Sansa, right?” He drawled out and turned to look at her. She could faintly open her eyes. She felt fatigued with her head spinning, making her sick but she tried to answer, “Yes, my king.” She almost spat, her voice barely audible. She inwardly cringed at his chosen nickname for her to call him. He chose it, simply because he felt powerful over her and he _loved_ the feeling of being superior.

  
“You know I _hate_ disobedience, Sansa . . . but you still chose to disobey me and tried to leave my estate.” He said all the while slowly threading his fingers through her blazing red locks away from her face. She wanted to squirm away from him but decided against it. She didn't want another bruise to mar her face.

She sucked in a deep breath before saying, “I’m sorry, my king.” Hoping that he would just let this one slide even if it wasn’t likely to happen.

  
He smirked darkly at her and moved his hands down to the side of her face to caress them.

  
“An apology is not enough, my love. You need to learn your lesson. You will not eat until I say so and you will not _leave_ this room until I _say_ so.”

Joffrey Lannister turned around and walked to the door—not giving her a second glance—leaving her bruised, hungry, and alone in the dark empty room.

  
•••

  
Despite the cold air that surrounded the room, Sansa was covered in sweat. She felt light-headed and on the brink of passing out.

  
Looking around the room, she was surrounded by darkness. She didn't know how long she had been here and what time it was but her throat felt scratchy and parched.

  
Without even noticing it, tears started to roll down her cheeks. She sobbed once again. She was losing all hope and felt so helpless under Joffrey’s clutches. She didn't know what she had done to deserve this.

  
She tried to escape, could no longer bear and endure the abuse and humiliation. Three years was enough, _she_ had had enough.

  
But after all of her careful planning and sacrifices just to be free from the confines of her cage and out of this hellhole, they somehow still caught and kept her imprisoned once again in this room where she always ended up bruised and tortured.

  
She could almost hear Arya’s words in her head: “ _He’s a liar, Sansa. You have to believe me! Don't go away with him.”_

  
Sansa wished she had believed her sister, she wished she didn't have gone away with Joffrey, she wished she wasn't so naïve back then to believe Joffrey’s flowery lies and his façade of a gentleman  . . . but wishing was useless now. She had to act and try escaping now before he—

  
Sansa heard the muffled jingle of keys in the door and froze, panic rising in her chest at the possibility of Joffrey coming back.

  
She could hear his footsteps thumping on the tiled floor and felt her heart beat wildly in her chest as she hears him come closer.

  
“Sansa,”

  
A sigh of relief left her chapped lips, her muscles starting to slightly relax upon hearing her Uncle Tyrion’s  
baritone voice. He was the only person in the estate who showed kindness and compassion to her.

  
“Gods, what has my prick of a nephew done to you now?” Tyrion exclaimed, voice dripping with concern, when he saw her hands bound behind her back and looking sickly pale.

He rushed behind her to untie her. Sansa hissed in pain when the rope was finally removed. She knew there was going to be another bruise forming on her wrist. There was never a day where she had none, not when Joffrey was around.

“I’m so sorry this had to happen to you again, Sansa. I wish I had more control of that boy—here let me help you,“ Tyrion quickly helped her up as she stood and tried to prevent her from losing her balance by grasping her arms upright. It was a bit hard given their height difference, but he managed to guide her out and to her quarters. She carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, barely able to keep her eyes open.

“I’ll call someone to bring you food and help you . . .” Tyrion’s voice became muffled as she felt the world sway and spin along with her head, it throbbed and throbbed and before Sansa knew it, the world went black.

  
•••

  
Sansa awoke with a mild throb in her head. She could hear men talking—no, hissing. She tried to open her bleary eyes slowly and let them adjust to the brightness of the room. Her eyes went straight up to look at the ceiling, only, it wasn’t the ceiling. It was a familiar canopy with off-white colored drapes that encircled her when she looked around. It was her canopy bed, she was now in her room. _How could that be?_ She could faintly remember herself being tied on a chair, crying out her pain in the middle of a dark room with Joff—

  
“Sansa, you’re awake.” Tyrion said with a look of concern etched all over his face. He inched closer beside her and placed the back of his hand on her forehead.

  
“You were out for three days, we were starting to worry.” He muttered and Sansa looked up at him.

  
“’We?’” She rasped, her voice cracking from her dry throat.

  
“Me and . . . Joffrey.” Tyrion stepped aside and she saw Joffrey standing there, hands in his pocket with a look of shame on his face.

  
“I’m sorry.” He breathed, once he was beside her. She did nothing but gaze at him when he dipped down and pressed a kiss on her forehead. Sansa resented him now and nothing could ever change that. This was what he always did after nearly killing her. He would just croak out a ‘sorry’ and kiss her forehead, thinking that everything was alright again.

  
He had hit her with his bare hands! Not once or twice but many, so many times that Sansa had lost count of it. She didn't answer but instead stared at him with cold, calculating eyes until her Uncle Tyrion cleared his throat to ease the tension that was filling the room.

  
“Well, Joff, Sansa needs to rest and I know you are quite busy. You can leave her to me now, Father needs you at the family meeting.” Joffrey didn't move for a moment and just held her hands, caressing her knuckles.

  
“Alright.” With that, Joffrey exited the room. Sansa breathed out a sigh and relaxed her tensed muscles.

  
“I’ll get you something to eat and some glass of water, Sansa. I’ll be right back.” Tyrion went to the door but stopped when Sansa called him.

  
“Thank you for always being there for me, Uncle Tyrion.” She cracked a small genuine smile at him and Tyrion nodded. Although he was not really her uncle by blood, he made her feel like he really was, like he was family.

  
“I can’t help it. You're a sweet, kind young lady, Sansa. Too sweet to deserve the pain that this cruel world repeatedly throws at you.” He smiled back with sad eyes and went outside.

  
She felt the sting of tears at the back of her eyes and swallowed the lump that had unknowingly formed in her throat. She was ineffably touched at her Uncle’s words but it somehow made her feel alone, vulnerable and weak. She felt as if she had no one. She didn't even know where her family is and haven't seen them for a long time. She couldn't even believe she survived three years without them and the thought brought her in tears yet again.

  
The door squeaked open and a sight of a beautiful woman came into view with a tray full of mouthwatering food. The girl seemed surprised to find her in a crying mess. Sansa quickly wiped her tears with the back of her hand as the girl rushed to the bedside table and gently placed the food. She sat down beside Sansa and wrapped her arms around her, cradling her like a mother would to her child. She was surprised but then felt herself relax into the woman's arms.

  
“Why are you crying, sweet girl?” She said softly with a tight foreign accent and Sansa just shook her head.

  
“I’m so sorry . . . I—I just felt . . . So alone and—“

  
“Shhh, it's alright. It’ll all be alright.” The nameless woman held her until she stopped crying and gently pulled away. She saw Tyrion smile at them.

  
“Sansa, this is Shae, she’ll be your personal maid from now on.” Tyrion nodded at Shae, a glint of something foreign in his eyes.

  
“It’s so nice to meet you, Sansa. Tyrion’s told me a lot about you but my gods, you really are beautiful.” Sansa smiled at this but shook her head. It wasn't a compliment, at least not for her. She heard them a lot but it wasn’t something to be proud of or something to blush about. It was a curse. A pretty face had lead her to Joffrey, to this wretched place, and to her own doom.

  
“Thank you, Shae. It’s nice meeting you too and . . . thank you for that hug. I, um, needed that.” She went to shake her hand but Shae just grinned up at her and opened her arms to take Sansa in a bone-crushing hug. For a while, Sansa savored the feeling  and hugged her back.

  
“I’ve brought you food—here,“ Shae handed her the tray and the scent of gloriously cooked food wafted around the room, causing her stomach to grumble in an unladylike manner.

  
“Well, I’ll leave you two here. I’ll see you later, Sansa,” Tyrion waved at Sansa, “And you, Shae.” He glanced at Shae with a lopsided smile before leaving the two women in the room.

  
“Eat up, Sansa. I know you're starving.”

  
Sansa dug in and started chomping off of the roasted chicken. She couldn't help but moan at the divine taste filling her taste buds. After devouring a prawn risotto, ziti and a juicy burger, which she thought she couldn't finish, she gulped down a glass of cool water. The whole time Sansa ate, Shae kept silent and waited patiently for her to finish.

  
Sansa beamed at her, feeling a lot better now that she felt full and sated.

  
“Thank you for all of this, Shae.”

  
“You're welcome and I’m really sorry about what happened to you, Sansa. I've heard about what the underboss did to you.” Sansa paled upon the mention of Joffrey but managed to keep a straight face.

  
“It's nothing, really. He’s done this many times so it's nothing new and I’m. . . I’m used to it.” She suddenly scowled, the sad reality slapping her awake. She had grown used to Joffrey’s beating and abuse that she's began feeling numb to all of it. She didn't cry because Joffrey thought she wasn't good enough or that he saw her as a weak human being who perfectly fits the role as his plaything, no, she cried because she couldn't escape him, or wake up from this horrible nightmare.

  
“You poor thing,” Shae mumbled before enveloping her arms around Sansa into a comforting hug. Sansa didn't want to cry anymore. She was done with tears and hoped that she could make it out of this estate, this prison, if not whole, alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains mild sexual content and explicit language.

**II. Wicked Game**

* * *

  
         "OH, fuck. Yes, yes, yes!" She hollered at the top of her lungs, her fake, obnoxiously large ass jiggling in front of him as he continued to ram inside her.

  
Today had been a rough day handling the family. The rackets they were doing were not making much money at all and this was a first for him. He knew the fucking Lannister family was behind all of this, with them stealing their businesses and their own associates and the thought of all of these got Sandor worked up. It was either he fucking kill someone or fuck a bitch to find release from all of his frustrations.

 

He tried to concentrate on fucking her but the damn bitch was too loud it almost sounded fake, like it was one of those rehearsed, trying-hard porn stars on the internet. He was starting to lose interest and wanted this shit to be over so he fucked her fast and hard until he finally felt her squeeze his cock and came, eventually finding his own release. Candy was his longtime fuckbuddy mostly because she was the only one who could handle his savageness in bed and actually think that his horrible scars were hot. She didn't live here and she didn't belong to the family but she was always here in the estate.

 

"That was so good, Sandy. Gods, I want you so bad right now." Sandor glared at the woman as she snaked her hand down to his manhood. He snatched her hand away and went to put on his now wrinkled clothes. He had no time for this knowing that he needed to be meeting his associates and besides, he was sick and tired of how clingy she was getting and Sandor wasn't sure he wanted any of this anymore.

"I told you, don't fucking call me that, Candy. Leave." Sandor snarled at her but Candy was persistent on getting fucked again so she pulled him closer to her and grind her hips on his before giving him a hard bite on his earlobe. “I want you to take me again.” She whispered huskily in his good ear. Sandor didn't like it though and he was anything but turned on by her ministrations. It only flared his temper.

  
Sandor grasped her arm in a vicelike grip and looked at her with open hostility. He felt himself lose control of his temper and started seeing red. He didn't know what he was doing, unknowingly raising his fisted hand but before he could land a hard one at her, he heard Loras' voice call him and snapped him right out of his trance.

  
"Sandor? You in there, man?" Loras knocked at the door twice and called him.

  
"Yeah, just a sec." Sandor managed to say after a moment of silence but kept glaring at the now trembling girl, cowering before him. He tried to calm his raging temper and shoved Candy away with shaking hands.

  
"Get the fuck out of here." His voice boomed in the wide expanse of the room, making her stumble as she quickly dressed in her usual skimpy outfit and rushed outside the door.

  
He ran a hand through his hair in aggravation and took a seat behind his desk. His door suddenly squeaked open and Loras' head popped in.

  
"Have I interrupted something?" Loras said with an eyebrow arched when he was seated down opposite of him.

  
"No. What do you want?" He scowled at Loras who just shook his head. Sandor was already in a bad mood and even if Loras was his friend, he was just not in the mood today. He _always_ fucking was.

  
"Tywin Lannister and his Consigliere, Petyr Baelish is coming here to discuss business with us." Loras said and made a move to cross his arms over his chest.

  
"What? Those stealing cunts want to make business with us?" Sandor roared in anger at the mention of the mob boss. He knew persons like Tywin Lannister were never content with just money, they also wanted power, something Sandor has. He’ got all the connections and wealthy associates from the biggest restaurant chains to the local police department and Tywin fucking Lannister wants it. He wants it all.

  
"Yes," Loras said calmly and leaned forward to look him straight in the eyes. "They will arrive tomorrow morning."

  
Sandor fumed and cursed incoherently, few of which Loras could surely hear. The name Lannister screamed trouble and danger for Sandor and he wasn't about to trust any of them. For years, their family was always on top, number one, and well-known yet clearly, the Lannister Family was about to change that and Sandor was not impressed.

  
"What kind of business are they proposing?" Sandor held his composure by a thread so he focused on breathing steadily.

  
"Well, you'll know if you go. So are you going? Or will it only be Renly and me?"

  
Sandor thought about this for a while. He needed to be there in case shit happens and he wasn't so sure Renly would be able to handle this on his own or even if he was with Loras. He is the boss after all and he needs to make an appearance so he agreed on coming.

  
"Well then, I'll see you tomorrow." Loras stood up from his seat and slowly walked to the door but, to Sandor’s surprise, paused and gazed at Sandor.

  
"You have to take care of that temper, Sandor. I've seen you struggle with it and I know you've been through a lot but with you losing control, you could kill someone with out even noticing it and that won't look good in the family." Loras, for a man who doesn't take shit seriously, looked sternly at him and Sandor saw this and understood him. He knew Loras was only looking out for him as he always had been for years.

  
"Yeah, I know." Sandor said and watched Loras stuff his hands in each pocket before quietly leaving his office.

  
He grunted in dismay and shoved his face into his hands. He had trouble controlling his temper, he was guilty of that. Most of the time, he was blinded by rage and ended up in jail for punching people to death or suffocating the hell out of them. Add in his terribly burned scars, he was the perfect example of a hideous monster and he knew that. That was why the men in the family feared him and cower when he walks down the hallways of the estate or attend in their weekly meetings. Somehow it didn't stop him from being the monster that he was, instead, it fueled him to keep feeding on their fearful gazes and trembling bodies.

  
He knew his anger was not normal, not if he gets angry every fucking second of every fucking day. This was becoming a disorder and he knew he needed help, he needed to cure himself because if he didn't, he would lose everything he had worked hard for.

  
•••

  
Morning came by slowly for Sandor. He didn't have much sleep and he didn't know why but he got up early at five a.m. and jogged for an hour before heading to the gym while the estate was still asleep. Working out helped clear his mind off of any unwanted thoughts and it made him feel in peace. He wanted to stop thinking about their meeting later with the mob boss and the consigliere. He knew this would lead to no good because he knew how dirty the Lannisters played and since he was the mob boss of the Baratheon Family, he would have to decline the business proposal of those stuck-up bastards no matter what they were.

  
Sandor took a long, much-needed shower after his work out sessions. He exhaled a shaky sigh and leaned his head on the tiled wall as the cool water trickled down his warm body, easing every tensed and taut muscle.

  
Dressed in a white shirt and jeans with his hair slicked back, he made his way down the wide luxurious kitchen where the family's very own Nana Olenna was likely to be seen. The old woman was Loras’ grandmother and she had been serving the family for a long time.

  
She was giving him her usual megawatt smile when he came into view and he just gave a curt nod in return. Nana walked back to where the long dining table sat at and placed different big dishes that suited the big hungry men living in the estate.

  
“Good morning, Sandor. Breakfast is ready. Sit down, hun. Loras and the others will be here soon.” The amazing smell of her cooking dragged Sandor’s ass down to the posh dining room. Soon enough, the others came piling in and greeted him in respect before sitting down and munching on the very delectable breakfast Nana Olenna prepared for all of them.

  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Renly Baratheon enter the room with a smile as he held the phone to his ear. The bastard must be really enjoying his life as a married man with the way he was acting lately. Sandor mentally chuckled, remembering how Renly struggled on asking Margaery out on a date. He even almost spilled a tear when Margaery declined him and Loras did nothing but laugh at him but eventually ended up asking Margaery to give Renly a second chance. It all turned out to be good and their blissful marriage was evidence to that.

  
“Morning, boss.” Renly beamed at him, obviously in a good mood, and sat beside him. Sandor just grunted and shoved a strip of bacon in his awaiting mouth. Loras came in next and sat on the other side of him, grinning up at him and to Renly.

  
“How was your trip from Hawaii, Renly?” Loras, who also noticed the blinding glow of the damn bastard, asked with his eyebrows wiggling in mischief.

  
“It was pretty good.” Renly replied with a shrug and tried to look nonchalant but the curl of his lips never left his face. He looked like some blushing schoolgirl and Sandor had to refrain himself from scoffing.

  
“Whatever you say, Renly.” Loras shook his head and started to dig in his food.

  
Sometime in the middle of their meal, the phone rang loudly across the living room and pricked the attention of the men in the room. Nana Olenna held a single hand in front of the men to stop them from abandoning their unfinished plates. For her, leaving food untouched or plates not empty was the worst thing and an angry Nana was never a good thing.

  
“Myranda, dear. Could you get the phone?” Nana Olenna called out from the kitchen and Sandor instantly recognized the black haired woman that walked out to the living room and followed the continuous ringing. She was Myranda Royce. Loras had been dating her for a while now and why did he know this? Because Loras wouldn't stop blabbering about how perfect or pretty the damn girl was.

  
Not later than five minutes, Myranda came back and headed to where Sandor was seated. He assumed that it was the Lannisters who called. “The Lannisters are here, boss.” Myranda said softly beside Sandor. “They're already at the gates and they will be shortly guided to the meeting hall.” Sandor nodded and Myranda took it as her cue to get back inside the kitchen.

  
They all finished their plates and stood up to leave except Loras who stayed for a moment to talk to Myranda while Sandor went directly to the meeting room with Renly behind him. Heavy boots thumped on the floor as he neared the closed door and his muscles tensed at the thought of meeting the ever so fucking great, Tywin Lannister. This was the first time Sandor would face him because he had been hiding in his estate like a pussy and only Baelish would attend in his behalf. Sandor thought that this meeting would surely be important with Tywin personally showing up.

  
As he opened the door, the old peculiar face of Petyr Baelish came into view before his eyes landed on a stern looking one beside him. Sandor instantly knew that the man beside Baelish was Tywin Lannister with his balding gold hair. Surprisingly, Lannister didn't bring guards with him inside. Not that he needed one but Sandor didn't know if he would be able to calm down if the guy made a wrong move.

  
Baelish firstly greeted Sandor, smiling a quirky one at him and raised his hand out for a firm handshake to which Sandor took. Tywin and him exchanged a firm nod and studied each other's appearance and stature. Tywin showed no reaction to his scars but Sandor liked to think that it gave him a reason to be intimidated besides of his freakishly large body. After the long gaze Tywin gave him, they all took their seats on the wide array of plush chairs. Loras soon appeared and shook hands with Lannister and Baelish.

  
“Good morning, Mr. Clegane,” Baelish greeted before taking a sip of his orange juice that was brought in by a maid. “It’s been a long time since we've talked and we are pleased that you have agreed to do business with us.”

  
“I haven't agreed to anything yet so get on with your proposal.” Sandor rasped in annoyance. He didn't want his time wasted with stupid pleasantries, especially from Baelish.

  
“You're a blunt man, Clegane . . . That's good,” Tywin spoke all of a sudden. The whole time that they were talking, Tywin’s eyes were trained solely on Sandor as if studying him and observing every reaction from him. Tywin leaned forward and took a cigar from Baelish. “You see, we are expanding our business, Clegane. Illegal gambling and prostitution isn't enough to keep up with the family’s growing number,” Sandor mentally scoffed at that. Lannister had tons of businesses besides gambling and prostitution. He also dealt with money laundering, human trafficking and all the other illegal shit in and out of Kings city. “We need something big, something that we know will do good to our family, to your family and narcotics is our best bet.” Sandor felt the side of his mouth twitch. How is dealing drugs be able to do good to the family? Lannister was out of his fucking mind.

  
“And what's our role in all of this?” Renly said, keeping a cool aura in the room despite the tension that Sandor felt was lingering.

  
“We need cash, Mr. Clegane . . . And your politician friends. You can have a piece of the action if you would consider a million dollars…” Baelish trailed off. Sandor motioned for Renly to hand him a drink.

  
Sipping his whiskey, Sandor maintained a cool composure. “What is the interest for the family?”

  
“Thirty to forty percent. By the end of the year, you'll have three to four million dollars, Mr. Clegane. And it will continuously grow as long as you provide us what we need.”

  
“So thirty percent for finance, political influence and legal protection?” Sandor rhetorically asked.

  
“If you're concerned about the security, Mr, Clegane—“

  
“No. I have heard enough, Baelish. It’s true that I have many friends in politics but they won't be so friendly anymore if they knew that I’m dealing with drugs instead of just gambling–which they regard as a harmless vice. Dealing drugs is a dirty business and it's . . . A little dangerous,” Sandor stood up from his seat, followed by the remaining men in the room. “I have to say no and that is final. Thank you for coming and good luck on your business.” Sandor held out a hand for Lannister to shake. He saw how Tywin’s jaw clenched at his answer but quickly smiled a tight one at him and shook his hand with a firm grip.

  
“Thank you, Mr. Clegane.” Baelish said before following Tywin out of the room.

  
Alone with Loras and Renly, Sandor took a swig of his whiskey and savored its burning sensation sliding down his throat. He knew he was right in declining the Lannisters but he needed the opinion of his Consigliere.

  
“What do you think about the offer, Renly?” Renly, for a few seconds, looked slightly confused before understanding what Sandor was talking about.

  
Renly cleared his throat and clasped his hands in front of him before answering, “To be honest, boss, I think accepting it would be profitable for the family. We’d have more money for weapons and for protection. Without our involvement in it, other families would gladly take it and then gain connections and power and would possibly be able to outrank and take us out,” Renly had a point, Sandor thought. But he wasn't about to risk the welfare of the family. “But, you are right. Getting into that kind of business is risky and dangerous.”

  
“You’ve made the right decision, Sandor.” Loras, who was beside him, clapped the back of his shoulder and grinned. Still, Sandor couldn't shake the uneasiness he felt about Lannister.

  
“Bring Bronn in, Loras. I need to talk to him.” Sandor slid back the empty bottle of whiskey.

  
“Sure, boss.” Loras said and motioned for Renly to follow.

 

•••

  
“Hey, man! How have you been?” Bronn’s obnoxiously loud voice filled the room. He gave Sandor a manly embrace with a pat on the back before plopping down the albus colored couch. He had been a good friend to Sandor and did him favors when he wasn't busy running his night club downtown.

  
“Everything’s been good. Thanks for coming.” Sandor rasped and popped open a new bottle of whiskey and poured two glasses for both of them.

  
“Anytime, Sandor. You know you can count on me.” Sandor nodded. “I don't trust this Tywin Lannister. He came in earlier, asking me to do business with him and I declined it. He may seem a little upset so . . . I want you to go to them. Make them think your not happy with our family and find out what they're up to.” Sandor chugged down the contents of his glass. His gut told him the Lannisters are planning on something and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for those who commented, clicked kudos and bookmarked! I appreciate it. :)
> 
> Also, in the first chapter where Joffrey is mentioned, I sorta forgot that his last name should be Lannister because in this fic he isn't related to any Baratheon since he's a product of incest. Sorry about that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been sooooo long since I posted an update and I am so sorry! But I will continue to post new chapters and hopefully finish this fic. Thank you for the kudos, comments, and bookmarks! :)))

**III. Trapped**

* * *

 

              IT all felt good, Sansa thought. The serene surrounding, the early chirping of the small birds perched upon the large oak trees, and the slow ‘swoosh’ of the wind. It made her feel at peace, as if she was in another place far, far away from here where there was no Joffrey to hurt her, to beat her up and to humiliate her. She can be herself here. She can be the real Sansa again even if it was just for a moment, for a short period of time.

With closed eyes, she slowly took in a deep breath and drank from the mug that was enclosed in her hands, warming her body in the rather chilly morning. This was her escape. She’d wake up at around five in the morning, wrap herself in a shawl under her pyjamas, make herself a cup of coffee and head to this small garden the Lannisters call Godswood.

She was smiling more after she found out that Joffrey was immediately sent to a business meeting after leaving her in her room two days ago. She spent those two days doing fun activities with Shae and sometimes with her Uncle Tyrion. The two made an effort to help her take some of her mind off of her current situation and made her feel that she wasn’t alone. She was glad she had them or she would long be dead by now.

“Sansa, what are you doing up so early?”

Sansa froze, her grip from the mug tightening until she could feel her knuckles turning white. She slowly, ever so slowly, turned to look at him. Joffrey Lannister was standing beside her with hands on each side of his pocket. He was wearing another gray suit but his face looked tired and hair disheveled. He must’ve noticed her wondering because then he said, “I just got back from a business trip so I thought of visiting you. How are you feeling?”

Sansa tried to swallow the lump in her throat and tried to answer,”I’m fine.”

“That’s great,” He said before sitting beside Sansa. It was unnerving to have him so close to her. “I missed you.” He then turned to face her and slowly, gently even, he took her chin and lifted her head to make her look back at him. He ran his right hand through the strands of her red hair as he gazed at her with eyes full of adoration.

She couldn’t bring herself to answer him. She didn’t want this. His attention, his love. She never wanted any of this and the thought of it made Sansa’s lips tremble. It made her want to cry but she held them back and forced a smile. She wondered if it was a wrong move but then Joffrey smiled back genuinely compared to her fake one.

“I’m hungry. Let’s have breakfast, my love.” Joffrey took her hand and led her inside the building but to Sansa, it felt like he was dragging her out of her peaceful, little, happy place and back into hell once again.

 

Joffrey had acted so different the whole day. Uncharacteristically smiling at her and acting as if he cared about her welfare while they spent the whole day together. It scared Sansa. It didn’t feel right. Sure, she knows he’s acted like this with her before but today felt especially different and it made her shiver in fear.

She tried to make sense of his actions but she didn’t have time because in a few minutes he would be outside of her room, waiting for her to get ready for their dinner tonight at his own restaurant.

Earlier, while they ate breakfast, Sansa had already sensed that Joffrey wanted to tell her something. He was excited when he told her to get ready later tonight for their dinner date at his restaurant. She didn’t understand but she didn’t dare ask him about it. She just nodded and made herself appear as if she too was excited. It was what she always did. Oblige, obey and submit to everything the lion pup says.

After adding the last curl from her red hair, and a touch of gloss on her pink stained lips by the two maids, she was ready.

She stared at her reflection. She was beautiful, she was made to be one. Joffrey would never pick her, take her away from her family if she wasn’t but oh, how she wished she wasn’t . Then, she would never have to experience the suffering, the loneliness and the heartache of having to live with Joffrey and away from her family.

In her white cocktail dress that battled the paleness of her skin and her slim white ankle strap heels that made her already tall frame taller, she walked to the doorway, silver clutch in her hands, and opened the door.

Joffrey stood before her. His eyes in awe and that familiar look in his face—adoration, made Sansa’s skin crawl. It made her uneasy. That look made her uneasy.

He smiled, a toothy grin. His sly eyes had a glint, a sparkle in them that Sansa couldn’t make of. He held out his arm for her to take and Sansa did so. When they walked out of the mansion, Sansa noticed their height difference, she was much taller than Joffrey because of the heels and it made her feel awkward.

Joffrey led her to his vehicle, a stunning matte black Ferrari, and opened the door for her. Her face remained devoid of emotion as he went to sit beside her. Joffrey surprised her by taking her hand in his and interlaced them. She ground her teeth together to keep herself from doing something stupid like scratching his face with her well-manicured red painted nails. She endured the whole ride with their hands interlaced. Her mind was blank, her face looked blank and her head was turned to her left to gaze through the car window. She completely ignored everything until she felt the car pull in to a stop. She looked to her right and the door was opened, Joffrey stood waiting for her to get out. She didn’t even took notice of what he was wearing until now, when she got out of the car. He was in a grey tuxedo but he still looked the same. It didn’t give off that effect that it once had on Sansa, where her heart would skip a beat and time would seem to stop around her. Now, he was just plain looking, the color grey not really suiting him and his yellow headed body. Sansa dismissed her thoughts instantly as soon as they got inside of Maegor’s Holdfast.

The place was fancy. Fine dining everywhere she looked at but that was nothing new. She lost count of how many times Joffrey took her out here. It was exaggerated, overly decorated and just the color yellow all over the place. She didn’t like it. Not one bit.

They sat at a secluded table made especially for them, where there were no people. Just the two of them. This was new. Why would they need to be away from the people? She was starting to get a bit nervous.

Joffrey was smiling at her but it didn’t calm her nerves, it did the opposite. It was those eyes. Those evil looking eyes that when he smiled, didn’t even made him look happy. He had these cunning looking eyes that made her skin be covered with goosebumps.

  
“I have something important to tell you, but before that, let us eat, my love. Will you have the usual?” He asked with a calmness in his tone. She only nodded. She could only afford to nod while his words continue to eat at her. I have something important to tell you.

She ate only the half portion of the food that was served and stared and pushed at the remains. Her back straight and her face blank, she was like a robot whenever she’s out with him. He didn’t want to be embarrassed, he always says. She needed to be the perfect image of sophistication, elegance and class.

Joffrey took notice of her lack of appetite and said, “Is the food not to your liking, Sansa?”

Sansa raised her eyes to meet his and shook her head no. “It’s not that, my king. I am already full and I don’t think I can have another bite.” Sansa explained.

“Well then,” He wiped his mouth with his napkin in proper etiquette. “In that case, I can now show you my gift.”

Sansa couldn’t help but slightly narrow her eyes at him and scrunch her eyebrows in confusion.

“Happy birthday, Sansa.” He said and stood up. He walked over to her side and took her hands, urging her to stand up as well. She just stared at him while a flash of remembrance passed over her.

She couldn’t believe she forgot her own birthday. It had been a long time since she’s celebrated her last birthday. It was three years ago and this was the first time Joffrey had ever put effort for it. She had just turned 18 but without her family to celebrate it with.  
Her parents would’ve loved to see their eldest daughter as a grown adult. Her siblings would’ve loved it too. If only they were here. Her heart suddenly became heavy with emotion.

Joffrey let go of her hands and reached for his pockets, snapping Sansa out of her thoughts. He retrieved a tiny red velvet covered box from his pants pocket and slowly opened it to reveal a beautiful ring with the largest diamond she had ever seen on a ring.

Her eyes widened at the realization. He didn’t kneel on one foot but the ring in that tiny, red velvet covered box was all the evidence she needed to have a gut-wrenching conclusion. She stood frozen, stunned at the scene before her. No, it can’t be.

He exhaled and spoke,  
“Sansa, I have been waiting. . . For a long time to do this and now that you’ve come of age, I believe that we are now ready to take our relationship to a more serious path. I want to be with you, Sansa, always. I want to live the rest of my life with the woman I love and that’s you, Sansa. I know you feel the same way too, so . . . Will you marry me?”

Sansa couldn’t decipher what he had just said. She was too busy arguing with herself if this was real, if this was just a horrible, horrible nightmare but the gods were cruel and so was the world, everything was of course real. She never thought this day would come and she was taken aback. She never would’ve thought Joffrey would propose to her. She didn’t believe he loved her, not when she always saw him with another woman every time he came home from gods know where. It might’ve pained her once when she was blindly in love with him but now she was numb to it all and she couldn’t bring herself to care anymore. And the beatings! the bruises, the scars inside and out. He didn’t love her, he never did and he never will, but why marry her? Sansa suddenly felt dizzy. She felt so overwhelmed by all of what’s happening.

Gods. What did she do to deserve this? She thought as she looked back at Joffrey and his expectant eyes. She felt silent tears slid down on her cheeks. She didn’t have a choice. If she said no, he would still make her marry him but beat her into a pulp first for daring to even refuse him. If she said yes then she would truly be his. She would have to endure every slap, every cruel mock and every slimy kiss from him. She would have to endure him, all of him.

But she had made up her mind. With quivering lips and eyes heavy with tears, she said in an almost inaudible voice, “Yes.”

Joffrey must’ve misunderstood her tears because then he grinned ear to ear and hugged her tightly.

She stood still in Joffrey Lannister’s arms and slowly closed her eyes. More tears continue to stain her cheeks. She felt so helpless, her heart heavy with defeat and hopelessness. There was no way out of this. She had finally met her own doom.


	4. Chapter 4

**IV. I’ll Give You War**

* * *

 

**Bronn**

            HE was standing in front of the golden gates of the large estate, just a few steps and he would now be face to face with one of the most well known mob boss in New York— Tywin Lannister.

It had been two days since his talk with Sandor, two days since he had agreed to be his eyes and ears inside the Lannisters’ premises. This would’ve been over with yesterday if it weren’t for Lollys and her persistence in telling him not to go. It resulted in a big fight between the two of them but he had handled it, telling her that he needed to do it. It was an act of gratitude for all of the things Sandor did for them. He was like a brother to Bronn.

It wasn’t that his wife was being ungrateful, he knew she was only concerned about him, he was, after all, dealing with a huge mafia family but with a sensual kiss and a sincere ‘I love you. Everything will be alright’, Lollys finally gave in and allowed him to go.

Bronn continued to look around.  
The place was large, almost as large as the Baratheon’s, but it was more flashy, more grand-looking.

“State your name and business.” One of the large body guards who towered over him, said with a scowl on his face. He wasn’t intimidated though, he had already seen worse, like his longtime friend and colleague Sandor Clegane, the big, bad, burnt man.

His back straight, and an arrogant smile plastered on his face he said, “Bronn Flynn. I have a meeting with Tywin Lannister.”

The scowl of the guard seemed to deepen at him. His unwavering smile must have been getting on the guard’s nerves, Bronn thought and he grinned, a lopsided one.

The eyes of the man seemed to smolder with hate. He stepped aside for Bronn to enter but not before giving him a cunning smile that made Bronn’s own smile slightly drop. He didn’t understand, but it was as if the man knew something he didn’t. He continued to walk though, and prepared himself for the worst.

Bronn was led by another man to a large room that he assumed was the boss’s office. _Tywin’s office._

Bronn studied the place, luxurious and expensive furniture decorated the place. He was quite well-off himself, given that he was the owner of a well known nightclub, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the opulence of the place. He wasn’t surprised though. The Lannisters were known to be filthy rich and what better way to waste their money? Buy expensive shit so they can slap their fortune and status to people’s faces.

But that’s where Bronn is mostly confused about. Why would the Lannisters need Sandor’s financial support, when they can obviously provide a million dollars to further their plan? He already knew Sandor was the most powerful mob boss in the city and had connections that protected him and his family but Bronn didn’t get it. He didn’t dwell on it too much though, he was going to find out soon.

“Fine material there, isn’t it?” Tywin Lannister’s voice broke Bronn out of his musings. He removed his hand from feeling the burgundy-colored, velvet cushion of the sofa and flitted his attention to the man before him. Bronn smiled.

“It is. I’m glad to have finally meet you, Mr. Lannister.” They shook hands while Bronn took notice of Tywin’s appearance. He was a well-built man around his 50’s and was in a black expensive-looking suit. Tywin smiled back but it was a cold, spine-chilling one.

Tywin then turned around to walk behind his large oak desk and sat there, gesturing for Bronn to have a seat at a vacant chair before him.

“What is your business here, Mr. Flynn?” Tywin asks, as soon as he was seated. Bronn looked thoughtful for a second, or at least he pretended to.

“I heard about your upcoming _project_ , the one that involves narcotics,” At this, Tywin clasped his hands together in front of him, elbows resting on his desk. “I have been meaning to try and expand my business and . . . This plan of yours caught my interest.” He said, letting the lies glide around his tongue smoothly.

Tywin slightly arched a brow at him and said, “Oh, but aren’t you a friend of Mr. Clegane? A close one, in fact.”

“Mr. Clegane? The tall, burnt faced man? We’ve only spoken once when he was at my club but I’ve never really known him that much.” Bronn continued his false pretense while internally hoping it was believable enough.

“Well, you see, Mr. Flynn, I consider Mr. Clegane as a rival, an enemy now that he has displeased me with declining my proposal. . .,” Tywin then looked him straight in the eye before saying, “And I don’t take his friends _kindly_.”

Then Bronn’s façade suddenly dropped as soon as he saw Tywin’s smile, the same cunning smile that he saw on the guard earlier. Tywin knew, the bloody bastard _knew_.

Before Bronn could react, he suddenly felt two large hands grab him from behind and yanked him off the chair. On impulse, he violently wriggled out of the man’s grasp before turning around to land a hard punch on the man’s face, knocking him down. On his peripheral vision though, he caught a glimpse of Tywin and his gun pointing at him. He stopped landing punches at the man when he felt a searing pain on his lower leg. He hissed in pain as he clutched at it.

The man Bronn just knocked down was up again and was yanking him off to his feet, making him cry out in agony.

“A fighter, this one.” Tywin grinned at him. “Never thought you could fight, all you ever did was show off and smile like the cocky little shit that you are.”

Bronn’s breathing was rapidly increasing as he felt his blood continue to ooze out of his flesh. He couldn’t move, his arms were held back behind him by the guard.

Tywin, clearly enjoying the scene before him, slowly walked in front of him and leaned back on his desk, gun still in his hands.

“I’m giving you one last chance, Mr. Flynn. What is your business here?” Tywin calmly said and pressed the barrel of his pistol on the center of Bronn’s forehead. Bronn’s heart was beating faster like never before as he felt the cool metal on his head. He exhaled a shaky breath.

Bronn would never say it. He would never let Sandor down. He was going to die anyway, whatever his answer was, Tywin was going to kill him. Tywin Lannister was full of shit.

So, the last thing that Bronn thought of was his wife Lollys. He felt his heart constrict painfully at the thought of leaving his Lollys but he had already accepted his fate. He was going to die today. He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them, he spat at Tywin’s face with a deathly glare.

Tywin just slowly shook his head and said, “Cheap shot but wrong answer.” And he pulled the trigger. The gunshot resounding within the four walls of the room. Just like that, bronn’s lifeless body slumped heavily against the tiled floor, eyes wide open and blood oozing out of his shattered skull.

•••

  
**Sandor**

“Boss. . . Boss–,” Gendry sputtered, clearly out of breath. “Bronn’s wife is here, boss. She–,” more heavy breathing, “She wants to see you _immediately_.”

And as if on cue, Sandor heard screaming and thrashing through the door way where Gendry was standing. _This was not good._

“Let me go–,” Sandor could hear Lollys screaming.

Sandor immediately left his quarters to follow Gendry who had fled down after hearing the woman’s incoherent outbursts. Descending down the staircase, he saw Loras and Renly holding the woman, trying to stop her thrashing.

When Lollys saw him, she stopped. Her eyes red and puffy, her clothes in disarray. She was a mess. Tears were streaming down her face and her lips quivered as she spoke, “ You–,” Lollys pointed a finger at him. “You killed Bronn. You let him die in the hands of those Lannister pigs, you led him to them and now. . . Now, he’s dead.” She cried out. Her voice rang through the quiet mansion. She continued to sob even when Renly and Loras had let her go. She continued to sob as she sunk on her knees.

Sandor stood still, shocked. He was baffled by what he just heard. But he was even more baffled when Lollys threw a big box at him. Something rolled out of the box and he could see, clear as daylight, Bronn’s chopped off head and a note stuck on his forehead.

_Tell Clegane to try and never outsmart us again, because we Lannisters will always be ahead of him._

He didn’t know what to do but as he stood there, absorbing everything that had happened today, he can feel the claws of his rage, the fury within him boiling. He made a promise. A stupid promise. But he finally allowed his anger to swallow him.

The Lannisters want war? He’ll fucking give them war.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments, kudos and bookmarks! I’m so happy to know that you liked this fic :))


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m already apologizing for what’s about to happen. 
> 
> Thank you for the comments, kudos and bookmarks!!

**V. The Monster Within**

* * *

**TYWIN**

          OH, how it felt good to be powerful. To have this bit of control over their longtime rival, the Baratheon Family. He knew they were shaken. He knew Sandor Clegane would be shaking right now with rage but he wasn’t the least bit scared. Soon, he’ll be taking over New York city. Their family will be the most powerful, the most respectable. After, of course, they took _care_ of the Baratheons.

What he sent to Flynn’s wife was a message to the Baratheon family to never try to outsmart them again. What did they thought of Tywin? A stupid _Don_ who doesn’t know his enemies and their weaknesses? Of course he’d known Flynn and Clegane were close friends. He had been keeping tabs on him, watching him through different eyes and hearing him through different ears.

But contrary to what Clegane had probably believed, this grudge, this urge to have vengeance wasn’t just because of a proposal that he stupidly declined. There was more to that.

He had considered the Baratheon family an enemy long ago when the old boss of the Baratheon family, Robert Baratheon decided to kill his daughter by strangling her to death after finding out the children wasn’t his. What drove him to kill Tywin’s only daughter was finding out that Jaime, Tywin’s son, was the father of the three children. Tywin admitted he too was furious about his children committing incest in the family but nothing could change the fact that they were still family. Tywin never got his revenge because shortly, after the death of Cersie, Robert died of a cardiac arrest.

He knew the marriage ten years ago between her daughter, Cersei and Robert Baratheon was a mistake. He never should have agreed to it. The purpose of their marriage was to keep and prevent any future war between the two families but it clearly hadn’t gone to plan.

Tywin now had only a dwarf of a son and three grandchildren. He didn’t know where Jaime had went. He just woke up to finding out Jaime had already fled somewhere but he didn’t try to stop him. Tywin knew he needed to get away, to recover from the tragedies. After Jaime left, Tywin decided to send Tommen and Myrcella somewhere where they could focus on their studies and not be caught up in a mess of a world their grandfather lived in.

He knew the day would come where he would be able to crush the Baratheons and reign over the country. But now that a new Don had taken over the family, he was having a hard time dealing with them since Clegane was much wiser, much smarter than the old one who did nothing but eat, drink and fuck his way to an early grave. But that didn’t mean Tywin would easily give up. He will continue to destroy him and his family.

 _It’s just a matter of time before they all die_. Tywin smirked, he will not back down, not now after everything he had done for the family.

He called out for someone to send in his underboss and grandson, Joffrey. He couldn’t give the position to the dwarf even if he was his son. It wouldn’t look good with their image and besides, he couldn’t stand to be near the little freak. He had caused all these misfortunes in their life. It all started when he was born, when his mother died giving birth to him. Tywin had already lost the two most important women in his life, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing another family member.

Tywin sat behind his desk inside his office. He ran his calloused hands to feel the smooth texture of the desk. This office, he must admit, had plenty of vicious memories. He had spent most of his time here killing made men that were unloyal or suspicious to him, or sometimes _enemies_ who unknowingly fall right into Tywin’s hands. He grinned, remembering yesterday’s gruesome events.

A few minutes later, Joffrey entered the room in confident strides. He made himself comfortable in the plush sofa, his hands laying around the headrest.

“What is it that you want, Grandfather?” He crossed his legs, a cruel smile playing across his lips.

“I want you to do something for me.”

•••

 

**Margaery**

“And I love you.” Margaery replied, grinning widely at her handsome husband. He looked so cute when he was worried. He just kept rambling on about how she needs to be careful and that she needs to be home not later than midnight.

He just kept talking and Margaery was getting tired of him worrying over nothing so she did the one thing that shuts him up immediately. She reached for his face and pressed her lips to his in a passionate kiss. She felt Renly melt into the kiss and responded with equal fervor. When she pulled back, Renly’s eyes were still closed and his swollen lips slightly opened. She chuckled at this and gave him a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine, Renly. I’ll just spend a few hours with the girls and then I’ll come straight home.” She smiled a sweet one at him and he can’t help but smile back.

It was typical for Renly to always worry.  
He loves her too much that he worries about her safety and welfare all the time and it was one of the reasons Margaery loved him.

“Take care. I love you.” Renly said for what felt like the millionth time and Margaery just waved at him before joining her friends inside the vehicle. They drove off to somewhere the girls felt like going , they all went straight to a nightclub.

  
  
It’s been two hours since they’ve arrived at the club and she was starting to get bored. She was left sitting on a table while her friends danced away downstairs. She continued to drink her Martini when she heard someone clear their throat from behind her and she turned around to see a man with boyish features and a blonde hair.

The stranger of a man in a dark grey suit smiled at her, showing a little dimple on the right side of his cheek.

“Mind if I join you? You look so lonely here, I thought you could use some company.”

She smiled back with that quirky smile of hers and shook her head. “No, I’m okay. I was about to leave, anyway.” She stood up and grabbed her bag.

“Aw, too bad. I was hoping to get you to dance with me on the dance floor.” He flashed her another cheeky grin that made his boyish features look almost cute.

Margaery chuckled at him but shook her head yet again. “No, really, I have to get home. My husband’s going to be all cranky if I get any later.”

She was sure he was flirting with her so  
Margaery studied his reaction about her being married but there was none.

“Then at least allow me to take you home.” The nameless man looked right through her eyes but Margaery wasn’t about to trust any stranger and she didn’t want Renly to start doubting her if by any chance he sees her with this man. 

“No, but thank you. I’ve already got a ride with my friends.” Margaery suddenly felt nervous and she was clenching and unclenching her fist to ease her nerves. There was something about the man’s presence that made her feel uncomfortable.

“Come on,” The man suddenly grabbed her wrist and led her downstairs and outside the club. Margaery was surprised at his firm grip on her wrist that it was starting to actually hurt.

“What are you doing?–let me go. . . You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull her hand free out of his grasp but to no avail.

“Stop being a little _bitch_ and just come with me.” He spat and practically dragged her to the parking lot.

“No–Help! Help someone! Nikki! Ashley! Let me go!” Margaery screamed at the top of her voice and thrashed her arms. She flailed around until she scratched his face with her nails, slicing the part of his cheek.

“You fucking bitch.” The man then forcefully grabbed her hair, dragging her by it and Margaery felt the stinging pain in her scalp. She wanted to cry.

As they neared a vehicle, she saw about five men in front of it, awaiting. The stranger pulled her in front of him, her back to his chest and his arms encircling her body, one of his hands laying under her chin.

With a meek, shivering voice, she said, “What are you going to do to me?”

The horror on her face was evident, now that she saw all the men smile vilely at her. Their dark eyes roaming her trembling body.

“You see them, sweetheart? Each and every one of them will _fuck_ you bloody and dry, until _every_ _piece_ of you, _every part_ of you is broken.” The man whispered near her ear and her eyes widened.

She struggled helplessy to get out of his hold and kept screaming her lungs out before she was violently thrown inside the van.

“No, _please_ no.” She pleaded, eyes heavy with unspilled tears until she felt a cold metal smack against the back of her head.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took long for this one to finish but here it is! Thank you for the support :) I would really like to know what you think so please leave a comment! Thanks for the bookmarks and kudos :))

**VI. Flightless Bird**

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            SANSA was running. _Fast_. She didn’t care if the ends of her dress got ripped into shreds as she dashed off into the forest. She didn’t care if her bare feet was covered with scratches and small wounds that she got with her running. She didn’t care about it at all. She just focused on running away from the monster, away from Joffrey.

She was running frantically through the huge, dark forest under the moonlit sky. She didn’t know how she’d escape but she kept on running, determined to finally have that long-awaited freedom.

The forest was quiet, save for the soft crunch of the leaves under her feet as she ran and the nearing sound of a horse’s hooves. It felt like it was coming closer to her and she was running towards it.

In the dark, as the horse came nearer, she could make out a figure, a shadow of a large person riding an equally large stallion. She halted, unable to move her legs until she was inches away from the face of a black horse. She tilted her head upwards and glanced at the gigantic person straddling the horse. She couldn’t make out his face– she was sure it was a man, but she remembered his _eyes_.

He had the most cruel eyes, crueler than Joffrey’s she was sure, but Sansa couldn’t bring herself to be afraid of him. She was, instead, relieved and comforted. It was those magnificent grey eyes. They shone in the darkness that were surrounding them and she could see the passion, the devotion and the strength of him within those eyes.

“Come with me, little bird.” The voice rasped, it felt like a caress to her ears and it was the most comforting, the most soothing sound she had heard in a long time. It was deep and rough and yet it brought Sansa a sense of recognition and relief. It was as if she had known him all her life.

Sansa could only stare up at him until she felt him bent forward to hoist her up, his hands on her waist, and place her in front of him. Her senses weren’t working, she couldn’t smell him, she could only feel the strength radiate from him and his muscled arms as it snaked around her stomach. She could only feel him place a soft, gentle kiss at the back of her head that said everything more than words ever could. She could only feel the whole of him and the sense of security she was enveloped in. She sighed and leaned back against him. _This almost felt like home._

“Sansa.” She heard him say with that deep, raspy voice of his. She couldn’t talk, didn’t know how to respond.

“ _Sansa_.” Again, she heard him say but it was fading slowly, changing.

“ _Sansa, my love, wake up_.”

She immediately opened her eyes upon realizing who was with her, suddenly jolting awake at the sudden feel of his cold hands on the bare skin of one of her thighs.

It was dark but she saw Joffrey’s face. She gave off a slight shiver, partly from the chill in the room but mostly from his close proximity to her. It became suddenly chilly in the room with the sheets pulled away from her body. Joffrey sat beside her, eyes half lidded while he slid one of his hands on her thighs in a back-and-forth motion. It was disturbing. He looked drunk as he smirked at her, letting his eyes roam around her body that was only covered by a flimsy nightgown.

Sansa laid there, eyes wide and scared. _What was he doing here anyway and in the middle of the night?_ But, before Sansa could come up with an answer, she felt his hand slide slowly upwards to her inner-thigh. She jolted and caught his wrist before it ever went far.

“Stop.” She said with all the courage she could muster. Joffrey seemed to be unfazed by her display of defiance. He continued his ministrations. He reached for the thin strap on her shoulders with his other hand and slowly lowered it. She shivered in disgust.

“Why not? You’re going to be my wife soon, you’ll need to know how to please your husband.” His hands continue to ghost against her skin, she tensed and furiously shook her head.

“I don’t want to.” Her throat suddenly felt constricted as she saw Joffrey’s demeanor change. She saw the rage within his eyes before he pushed her flat on the bed. He was on top, straddling her hips. He caught her wrists and placed them high above her head, chaining her to the bed, to him.

“Come on, Sansa. Won’t you show me your pretty little cunt?” He said, his face so close to hers she could smell the alcohol in his breath. He smiled menacingly at her and lowered his face to steal a kiss from her but Sansa turned her head away to avoid it. He growled, he was furious now.

Joffrey tightly held down both of her wrists with one hand while he caught her chin in a bruising grip with the other.

He kissed her roughly and Sansa, with all her might, wriggled one of her wrists free from his grasp and shoved him away. She slapped him, the force so strong the sound continued to ring within the room. Joffrey only managed to grin at her though his eyes only held cold malice.

“ _Mmm_. . . I love it when you fight back, it turns me on.” Lustful eyes leered at her as he forcefully grabbed her thighs and pried them open.

  
“No!” A scream ripped out of Sansa’s throat as she struggled to get out of his hold, to remove his dirty hands from her. When she was starting to think no one would come for her, the door slammed open and Joffrey froze upon hearing it.

“What in the seven hells is going on here?!” Tyrion’s short frame appeared through the doorway and his eyes instantly widened at the sight before him.

“Joffrey, you idiot! Let go of the poor girl.” He exclaimed but Joffrey only tightened his hold on her thighs, he was seething in anger. Sansa was sure he was going to leave another of his marks and bruises there but she laid still, unmoving. A moment later, he let go and stormed past Tyrion and outside of the room.

Sansa immediately sat up and grabbed the sheets, pulling it past her chin. Her eyes were wide and glassy as he stared back at her Uncle Tyrion. Tyrion just gave her an apologetic look and exited the room to follow Joffrey.

Sansa hadn’t realized she was shaking, she was trembling and she felt a surge of hot tears springing out of her red-rimmed eyes. She ran to the bathroom, locking the door and stepped inside the shower room. She let herself slide down against the cold tiled walls under the running water and grabbed for a soap.

She didn’t know what she was doing but she felt _dirty_. She felt disgusting. After what Joffrey attempted, she felt as though she was the most revolting person in the world. She furiously rubbed soap on every inch of her skin under the running water as though she was trying to erase Joffrey’s marks, bruises. She scrubbed the soap hard on her reddening skin, half-hoping it would remove everything, every disgusting thing she had experienced with Joffrey.

She still had on her black nightgown and it clung to her skin as she soaked in the cool water. She gave up on cleaning herself, the soap sliding out of her grasp as she _cried_ and _cried_ and _cried_ until her eyes stung. By the time she got out, her skin was wrinkly and she was a shivering mess.

She wore pyjamas and sat at the foot of her bed. She remained still, expressionless. She stared blankly at nothing while droplets from her still wet hair rolled down her back. She didn’t care, couldn’t bring herself to care.

  
Moments after sitting still and staring into the nothingness, she stood and took slow steps to the door. She needed water, her dry throat and mouth urging her to go to the kitchen even though she wanted nothing but to lock herself inside the room for the rest of her pathetic life. But at two-thirty in the morning, she knew everyone was asleep and that thought eased her rattled nerves. Noiselessly, she walked through the hallways and to the kitchen doorway. She got herself a glass of tap water and gulped it down in one drink. It wasn’t when Sansa passed by the open doors of the balcony that she heard talking.

“Talk, damn it!” She heard the familiar voice of her Uncle Tyrion say.

“She’s refusing me of my marital rights! And she’s going to be my wife soon–“ She was sure Tyrion was talking to Joffrey. _Joffrey_. She closed her eyes as events of earlier flashed through her eyes. She continued to listen though, her ears pricked upon hearing she was their subject.

“So you force her to have sex with you? Stop being a fucking idiot, Joffrey!”

“We were bound to do it anyway, so why not do it sooner?”

She heard Tyrion scoff before saying,  
“You really are one obnoxious cunt.”

Sansa risked a peek through the doorway and saw that Joffrey had backhanded Tyrion.

“You don’t get to talk to me that way. I am still the underboss. You’re just the unwanted son of my grandfather. Know your fucking place.” She could hear the vile dripping in his voice and Tyrion appeared to be clenching her teeth in silent anger.

“You can’t stop me every time I do something with Sansa. It’s none of your business if I fuck her without her consent and It’s none of your business if I punish her. If you get in my way again, I’ll slit your throat like I did with Sansa’s family.”

For a moment, Sansa didn’t, _couldn’t_ comprehend what he had just said but it was a hard slap on the face after the thought sunk in.

Sansa was beyond shocked from what she had just heard. Her hand over her agape mouth, she ran back to her room.

No tears would come out as she lay down on the bed. She stared up at the ceiling with her mind constantly repeating Joffrey’s words. _“I’ll slit your throat like I did with Sansa’s family.”_

How could he do such a thing? How could he kill her parents, her siblings after all that she had done for him? She clenched and unclenched her shaking hand, anger rising in the pit of her stomach.

Sansa tried to relive the last moments she was with her family before Joffrey took her.

She felt so happy back then. Her long blazing red hair flowing freely behind her back as she played with her older brothers and her little sister, Arya. She lived in an average, cozy house with her family and her dog, Lady, in a small quiet neighborhood by the rivers. That was back in Missoula, Montana. So far away from Brooklyn, so far away from _here_.

She was just a simple Riverlands girl and they were, by all means, not wealthy but she didn’t know what it was that made Joffrey, the underboss of the Lannister family be suddenly interested in her.

He was just eighteen back then and she fifteen. She could tell he was smitten by her from the first time she laid eyes on him. She was too. He was, after all, very sweet. He came to visit her everyday, brought her family gifts and treats and constantly had flowers and chocolates for Sansa. He made an effort to get along with her parents and siblings but all his efforts had gone to waste when her father knew about Joffrey’s involvement in a criminal organization.

He didn’t like it, not one bit so he shut Joffrey down, didn’t allow him to see Sansa anymore. But Sansa was young and naïve. She was fifteen and she was falling for a guy she thought was everything she had dreamed of. He was handsome, sweet, and gallant and Sansa wanted to be a part of his life so when Joffrey told her to pack her things and come with him, she did. She willingly left even after Arya grabbed her hand to stop her, even after, in her mind, she saw her family’s disappointed faces. She chose to leave. She chose this. She shouldn’t blame anyone else but her. For being stupid and for being a fool.

She clenched and unclenched her fist, her long nails digging into the skin of her palm until she drew blood. _She gave up_. She suddenly forgot how to feel, forgot how to live, lost the will to live. She had no one now.

 _My family is dead and it’s all because of me_ , she thought as a single drop of tear slid down on the side of her cheek.


	7. Chapter 7

**VII. Dark Times**

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             SANDOR stood before a building. He looked around, the darkening clouds above made the place look eerie. Whispers of soft breeze hit his face and made his jet black hair move. The building was an abandoned warehouse, perfect for what he was about to do.

He opened one of the doors and saw that the inside was dimly lit. No other light source but the faint glow of the sinking sun through the faded windows. He stepped inside with heavy sounding footsteps, eyes zeroing in on the man standing in the center with hands clasped behind his back.

At hearing Sandor’s heavy booted steps, the man turned around to face him. He gave Sandor one of his odd, quirky smiles that usually made a person uncomfortable, not him though. He was here for a reason, for revenge.

“Mr. Clegane.” Baelish gave a small nod in greeting. _Baelish_ , the little scumbag who was Tywin Lannister’s Consigliere decided to give him information. Why? He didn’t know but he didn’t refuse. He still agreed to meet him in this old, abandoned warehouse even when both Loras and Renly told him it was a trap and that it was dangerous. He didn’t trust Baelish but he needed the information, if there were any, but if this was really a trap then too bad for Baelish. He was going to fucking kill him with his bare hands.

“What have you got for me, Baelish?” He asked, his deep voice echoing in the dark. For a second, Sandor thought he was going to reach for his gun on his back-pocket and so he made to reach for his but then Baelish took out a picture and handed to him a photograph of a young girl.

He looked at it intently, from her red, fiery mane to her plump, pink smiling lips. _A belladonna_ , he thought. She had the most captivating blue eyes Sandor had ever seen, he found he couldn’t take his gaze away from her. He would love to stare at it for longer than necessary but he had more pressing matters.

“Who’s this?” He waved the picture at Baelish.

“She’s someone important,” Baelish took the picture from him and gazed at it with a twinkle in his eye as he continued, “You see, Tywin values his family greatly and as of now, he has no one but her grandchildren and his son, Tyrion. Two of his grandchildren went to Florida to study and he really doesn’t give a fuck about his dwarf son. You’re left with his favorite grandson and underboss, Joffrey Baratheon.”

“That girl in the picture is Sansa Stark, Joffrey’s fiancée. Joffrey loves her more than anything in this world, or at least that’s what I have observed. If you have her, you’ll have Joffrey. You destroy Joffrey, you destroy Tywin Lannister.”

Sandor took a moment to process what he said. He glanced at Baelish and his turquoise colored eyes. He wasn’t lying. But he saw the intent. His _true_ intent.

“Why are you doing this, Baelish?” Sandor asked or rather, confirmed. His piercing stare only made the man took a step back, although maintained to look calm.

“I’ve never really been a Lannister man. They steal, they cheat and they never play fair. They’ll do anything to be the most powerful and they won’t rest until they get what they want.” At this, Petyr smiled at him in a way that confirmed Sandor’s suspicions. He had read out Baelish, it was boldly written on his fucking face.

Sandor’s blood boiled at the man’s stupid attempt to outmaneuver him with his slyness. He grasped his collars and looked down at him with a threatening glare.

“Do you think I’m fucking dumb? Do you think I’m fucking stupid? I know what you’re doing here, Baelish.” Sandor lifted the man, his feet now inches from the cold floor. “I know you’re a fucking Lannister man. Always have been, always will be.”

Sandor started wringing Petyr’s neck. One hand dangerously enclosing on his neck. He tightened his grip, choking, suffocating the life out of the gurgling man.

“Your cunt of a boss and his family won’t win this war. I’ve already raided your warehouses, your businesses and your useless fucking associates and I enjoyed killing each and every one of them with my bare hands.”

Petyr clawed at his hand, eyes watery and bulging as he struggled to free himself. Sandor only clenched his jaw and continued, “The Lannisters aren’t the only ones who want power, I can see it in your eyes. You’re trying to play smart, making two large, influential families destroy each other while you plan on taking what’s supposed to be mine. Too bad for you.”

And with fluidity and grace of a born killer, Sandor snapped the bastard’s neck in one quick movement. As Petyr’s body fell to the cold floor, Sandor felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

“Sandor,” Loras almost cried, sounding panicked. “You need to come to the hospital right now. Margaery’s in critical condition.”

Sandor wasted no time and put the phone down. He strode through the door before his peripheral vision caught something. He bent down to grab the item and exited the building, leaving the man’s dead body to rot inside.

•••

When Sandor entered through the hospital doors, it brought all the memories from when he was just a little boy. He remembered the white blank walls and the smell of disinfectants lingering in the air. He remembered the ear-piercing screams, his _own_ screams as he felt the searing pain on the side of his face. He couldn’t forget all of it, not when he spent almost half of his life in this building.

He walked up to the nurse’s desk but stopped when he heard Loras call him. He saw Loras but a different, new version of him. He looked tired and anxious. The bags under his eyes were dark and his hair was all over the place, so different from the usual Loras he knew.

“Renly’s inside Marg’s room, waiting for her to wake up. She still hasn’t woken up yet.” He said with sad, downcast eyes.

“What happened?” Sandor asked. The question was on his mind since he left the warehouse. He’d seen Margaery the day before with Renly, all happy and giddy and now she was suddenly in a hospital bed with IV tubes stuck on her body. Sandor had a strong feeling the Lannisters were behind this.

Loras started walking, heading to Margaery’s room, Sandor guessed. So he followed beside him and waited for him to talk.

“Last night Renly received a text message from Marg’s phone. It was an address and a picture of Margaery unconsciously tied up to a chair, her dress was torn and she…she was _bleeding_ everywhere.”

Loras’ voice broke as he told him this but then he continued, “Renly called me to come with him. We went to the building and saw her there and it . . . was even worse in person.” Loras’s steps slowed down as they neared the room.

Sandor looked through the window and saw Renly sitting close beside an unconscious Margaery. He was holding one of her hands, affectionately rubbing the skin on the back of it. His eyes were glued to Margaery, expectant and pleading. It was almost heartbreaking, Sandor thought. Then his eyes turned to Margaery. He almost couldn’t make out her face. She had cuts, bruises and swelling.

“We saw a tape beside her that night. . . She’s been raped, Sandor. I saw it on the video tape. And not just by one man but a group of twelve men. She’s been used and treated like some whore. . . Gods.” And for the first time Sandor saw Loras cry. Heavy tears sliding down his cheeks as he looked at his sister through the glass window.

“Joffrey Lannister did this, he was on the tape. I’ll kill that motherfucker. I’ll make him suffer. You’ve got to help me Sandor. The Lannisters, we need to take them all down.” His determined eyes looked at Sandor’s and in that moment they both had an agreement, a goal.

Sandor took out the picture from his pocket, gazed at it and said, ”I have a plan and it involves the little cunt’s fiancée, Sansa Stark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we’re done with the long 7-chapter-introduction! Next chapter is Sandor finally meeting Sansa but not in a conventional way lol. Thank you for the support! I greatly appreciate the kudos, bookmarks and comments :)


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